In the preceding narrative, the name of a very celebrated lady has been introduced, who, for a long series of years, greatly attracted public notice, and concerning whom, the loudest praises and the bitterest censures have been scattered about with unsparing profuseness. This lady was
Mrs. P—.
She seems introduced in the Recollections merely as one of those to whom a certain degree of reputation in the literary world obtained an easy introduction, but by no means from any admiration either of her talents, or her conduct. A long interval of time elapsed between the first commencement of acquaintance with this lady, and its last renewal; but the impression concerning her, remained the same—unaltered and unalterable.
Her great characteristic was vanity; acute, ingenious, and variously informed, she undoubtedly was; but there was a pert levity about her, which induced a perpetual suspicion of her accuracy, and an affectation also, which it seems wonderful that Dr. Johnson could ever have endured.
The fraternity who used to assemble at her parties, had certain cant words and expressions among them, perfectly characteristic of their numerous but fantastical school.
Every body admitted to their familiarity was termed Dear. Dear Anna Seward, Dear Dr. Darwin, Dear Mrs. Siddons, Dear Sir Lucas Pepys, were terms perpetually vibrated in gentle undulations round the drawing-room.
No person seems better to have understood this lady’s character than Boswell. The term Lively Lady, in the sense in which he used it, was admirably descriptive of her mind and manner, both in writing and conversation. But her works and her character have long been before the public, who have formed an adequate estimate of both. It is not perhaps generally known, that her decline of life was characterized with one of those extraordinary and preposterous acts, that fortunately do not often occur in society, but when they do, are invariably animadverted upon with the asperity they deserve.
It is very notorious that Mrs. P. had several children, and many grand-children. It is equally well known that she possesses considerable hereditary landed property, to the amount of not much, if at all less than four thousand pounds a-year.
What does the reader anticipate? Why in course that this property was bequeathed in just and reasonable proportions to the above-mentioned children and grand-children. No such thing. Such a humdrum and every day mode of proceeding would have been unworthy of the poetess, the authoress, the confidential friend of the benevolent Johnson. Our lively lady (Boswell, we thank thee for that word) aimed at fairer wreaths and brighter laurels. No! diligent search was to be made in the Alps, for some booby relative of the last poor dear man, and the search succeeded. A young Italian mountaineer turned up, calling himself the nephew to the never enough to be lamented musician man. He was accordingly imported to this northern region, educated first at an expensive school, and afterwards at the University; and upon him, and his heirs for ever, are the estates and honours of one of the oldest families of Cambrian origin, irrevocably vested and settled.
The old family mansion, forsooth, was not good enough for his Italian Highness. This was accordingly pulled down, and a new and splendid structure erected for his Honour, at an expence of not much less than twenty thousand pounds. To carry the jest as far as it will possibly endure to be carried, this paragon of mothers and of widows, constantly carries her dear boy’s miniature picture in her bosom, and exhibits it, on all occasions, with the most unnatural and preposterous exultation.
So no more at present, good people, of the worthy hostess of Johnson.